Simple Song
by HarvestMoonFreak723
Summary: Claire Royale has inherited her grandparents' run down farm in Mineral Town. After a rough childhood and a need to take control, she's taken up the farm at 18. Gray Adams has always visited the Town to see his Grandfather, but tragedy ends up with his moving there at 19. Will these two find a way to help heal their pasts? Can love truly conquer and heal all? Does hardship ever end?
1. Prologue

CLAIRE

* * *

_Bright light. Loud sounds. Strange faces and hands touching me; my skin's sensitivity extremely high. The air suddenly becoming cold. My lungs breathe air instead of fluid; it feels dry and rough._

I'm scared.  
I'm confused.  
I cry.

I am still cold, but a cloth is folded around me, the texture coarse against my soft skin. The voices are still loud and the light is still bright, but I am adjusting. Many faces gaze upon me, their words unknown to me.

But there is one face where I stop crying.

I don't know it's words, but I know its voice. I heard it for a while when I was inside still. It smiles at me; it speaks softly. Then it cries, but is still smiling. Another voice next to it; I recognize it as well. It cries and smiles too.

I feel calm.

I'm happy.

Then the strange faces take me again, and I cry again. I want to be with the ones who smile! They do not understand me, they take me away from the nice looking people.

They prick my heel and it hurts, and they put drops of liquid in my eyes, which comfort me, and they wash me; it feels good to be wet again. They dry me off and put clothes on me, all so bizarre and rough.

I've cried a lot; water leaks from my eyes, alarming me, and I cry even more, not understanding. I want to go back where I was; where I was warm and safe and heard friendly voices all around me. I want to go back to those voices!

Then I hear one of the voices. And another. Another, another, and another.

The one who cried first is still in that room, but it is holding me now. It smiles again, and its face touches mine, a soft feeling is left on my cheek, and I touch it curiously. The other one is holding its hand, and it lifts one up to me. I grasp a finger with my tiny hand; it curls and the face smiles.

A face appears. Then two more. A smaller face peeks between the bigger faces, and it speaks. I know that voice too. It holds the hands of two smaller faces, which look at me and speak too. I know those voices!  
I'm happy again. I'm with the voices.

A big face appears. It talks to the bigger faces, and the one holding me speaks. I don't know what it means, but it's,

"Claire"

And for some reason, I laugh.

I like how it sounds. 

* * *

My birth.

Most people have no memory of it.

They hear the story and see the pictures, and of course they believe it, but the memory is not theirs. They feel cheated.

Not me. I remember it.

No one knows why.  
Mother says it is a gift from the Harvest Queen; Father says it is a sign from the Harvest King.  
My siblings have different ideas. James claims it's nothing but a brain error; Jack thinks it's a curse from the Witch Princess; Jill thinks it's the beginning of a power from the Harvest Goddess.

Whatever it is, I don't think it matters.

It never affected my life before. So what if I could remember my first moment of independent life? It didn't make me smarter; I wasn't faster or stronger than the rest.

I was just Claire Olivia Royale; tomboy, youngest of four, only child with golden blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes.

And I'm a Harvester.

If my deities had been the cause of my memory; if there is a reason for it; then it would have been revealed, wouldn't it?

…Wouldn't it?

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

* * *

GRAY

* * *

I pound on the door. A gruff, familiar voice calls back to me. "Come in," it tells me, taking on the business persona. It doesn't know its grandson is the one outside.

And he's not here for a visit.

I open the door. Step inside. His bushy gray eyebrows lift up enough to see his eyes; shock and joy light them up.  
It hurts to know that light will die in a moment.

"Gray," he says, leaving his work as it is, the forge firing and the metal burning on the counter. He comes up to me, hugs me. I hug back.

I can't let go.

"Gray?" he asks warily, as tremors begin to shake my tall frame. I can't let him see me cry; I never said anything against hearing it.

"Boy, what is it?" his shouts, holding me up as I lose strength at my knees. I can't stop the tears now; the hole has been ripped open again, and it's too late to patch it enough to get by.

"She's gone, Gramps," I tell him through my sobs. I look into his grayed eyes with my cerulean blue ones, their color brighter against the red. My UMA hat falls from my tousled auburn hair to the ground.

"She's gone," I repeat. I pound my fists against the ground, screaming at the pain. Gramps steps back, frightened and confused.

"The Witch stole her from me!" I cry, my screams echoing all throughout the town. The silence is deafening as I continue to tear at my soul.


	2. Changes

*** **TRIGGER WARNING**! *** 

* * *

~~~~ **CLAIRE** ~~~~

* * *

There was a time when everything was simple. Happy. Carefree.

That time is over.

Life has been... Well, life. Sometimes it gives you lemons, sometimes it takes them from you.

But you move on, right? Adversity and all that crap. Make the best of the worst.

So that's what I'm doing. In the midst of tragedy, I'm making the best of it. 

* * *

I remember going to the reading. Why we had to hire someone to read the Will, I'll never understand. We can read perfectly fine.

I didn't listen at first. Too many memories of a similar situation not too many years ago.

I loved them. I really did. We never visited much, mostly during summer break and the holidays. Harvesters must always gather on days of faith, of course. Even if we weren't living like most Harvesters, staying out of the country and living with the 'iron jungle' more than a real jungle.

I've always known there was something I wanted to do with my life. Something big. Not doctor big, not CEO big, not famous big. Just something important, something for my family, something for my Goddess and King.

I just never knew what it was.

It shouldn't have been a concern yet, and wasn't. I'm only 18 years old; I was planning to graduate Highschool a semester early. College was an option, but Jack and Jill were already going. James never finished his. There was no need for me to go yet, if at all.

That's why it caught me by surprise.

I almost missed it. I had to have them repeat it.

The man cleared his throat after frowning at me. He didn't take kindly to my lack of attention. I wanted to snap at him, but Jack gave me that look, and I kept quiet.

"To my immediate grandchildren, my wife and I have agreed to bestow upon them the deed to our farm, with all buildings, equipment, and livestock on the grounds at the current time," he says.

I blink. Once. Twice. Three times.

I look at my mother, the words not making sense. She just looks shocked, a hand pressed to her mouth. Jack and Jill share a look, and she nods at him. His mouth furrows, but he nods back. James places a hand at my shoulder, and I turn to him, his face looking troubled and worried.

I face forward again, letting the words play in my head.

_"To my immediate grandchildren... the deed to our farm..."_

My breath gets sucked in quickly as my eyes bulge. Their farm. Oma and Opa's farm. They're giving it to us?

I want to say I'm not shocked, it is logical for them to not want to lose good land, and Harvesters tend to keep family farms in the family until the line dies out. But I am.

I'm also scared. What are we suppose to do with a farm in Mineral Town? Papa moved away from there when James was born, to get away from his farmer roots. None of us were raised on a farm, like our ancestors before us were.

Yes, James has made a great living on the farm Dad discovered in Forget-Me-Not-Valley, years before he met Mom. And we helped out whenever we visited during the summer, so we did know how to run a farm. Or had the idea. But we already have a farm; what're we to do with another one, a larger one then James has?

I knew what James was thinking. _How much would it sell for?_ I didn't think him cruel for the thought, it was probably the best option we had. We had two siblings in college, possible three soon, and Mom's hospital bills were always coming...

So I zoned out again as the man continued to read in his monotone, bored voice. I didn't question my older, twin siblings about there unspoken agreement. They had their own bond, one we loving referred to as their 'twin sense'. Nor did I speak to James about possible prices we could put it up for.

No. Cause in that moment of zoning out, thinking of graduation and my future, it clicked. _Clicked_, like a light bulb turning on above my head.

And everything made sense. Everything would work out.

The best out of the worst. 

* * *

It had terrified me, finding the will later that night as we all sat in bed for the night. I carefully reread over it, finding everything I need to know, before pulling up my bank account to see my savings.

I was satisfied. But now I was an entirely new scared.

I had approached Jack first. He was my rock; he was the closest sibling I had, despite his twin bond with Jill. Strange enough, he was the only one I happened to have any family resemblance to.

He was hesitant to my decision at first; which was understandable, I was his baby sister, about to take a very, very important change in my life. But he pulled me into his embrace, and whispered words of reassurance and confidence into my blonde hair, and suddenly I knew everything would be okay. I was still scared, but if my brother believed in me, then I did too. 

* * *

And here I am now. One taxi ride and a boat trip later, I was at the entrance to Royale Ranch. My late grandparents farm.

My farm.

I had felt guilty, leaving the twins to take care of Momma while I risked my education, future, and life savings on something so monumental.

I felt like an idiot. How could I, an uneducated, just graduated Highschool a few weeks ago, tiny 18-year-old Caucasian girl, run a farm all by myself? And by using old, traditional methods, with hand plows and watering cans?

I didn't know how. I was smart for my age; always scored high on government tests, taking all honors and a couple AP courses in Highschool. Knew how to balance a checkbook and take out a mortgage. But I've always had help. Three older siblings, parents and grandparents, not to mention the dozens of cousins scattered all over the globe.

Truth is, standing here at the entrance, I still don't know how.

But I'll be _damned_ if I go down without a fight. 

* * *

~~~~ **GRAY** ~~~~

* * *

"So, I heard one of the Royale's grandchildren has agreed to take over the farm," Grandfather says conversationally. I grunt a response to him, going back to hammering the hot metal like he had showed me years ago.

What did it matter to me? I had never met the old farmer and his wife. Sure, I visited a couple Summers, but I was never a social butterfly. Still not. I made jewelry to held out Gramps in his shop, or hung out with Kai at the docks, or sat in the corner of the library for hours on end, hiding into a world of fantasy, where reality would slip away for a little bit.

Yeah, I saw them come in the shop sometimes asking about tools or an order, but I never spoke to them. Or any of the kids they sometimes had with them. It wasn't my place to make friends, not when long distance friendships always failed anyways.

Why bring people close if they only leave you?

I hiss in pain as the hot metal burns by knuckle. I did it again; I thought about _IT_. It always hurts me to remember, but I seem to cause physical damage when I'm working at the same time.

Shaking my head, I place my hand in the cool water we use for the metal, sighing as the burn eases slightly. Grandfather watches me, shaking his head sadly. "How are you suppose to make anything good if you can't even pay any attention?" he criticizes. That's all he ever does, criticize my work.

When I moved in with him after Highschool to become his apprentice, it wasn't ideal. Or my idea at all. But I had no choice. He's my family. My future may be out of my decision now, but if I'm forced to live and work here, I might as well earn a living somehow. Blacksmithing is such an old trade now; it feels nice to know that when he goes, I'll still be around to keep the family trade alive.

I almost smile at the thought. Almost. I haven't smiled much since Highschool. Since... _IT_ happened.

I sigh deeply, and wipe my brow with a rag, tuning out his words. I can't concentrate, and he knows damn well why. I haven't been the same since. I'm scarred. Damaged. Broken. My whole world changed, and I was left helpless to stop it.

I wince as another flashback sneaks it's way out of my subconscious again. It's been keeping them hidden from me for so long, letting me bask in the pain while it was fresh, before deciding I could "handle" seeing the rest, as Dr. Trent puts it.

But it's wrong. I'll _never_ be able to handle what I see. What I remember as if it's happening right in front of me, all over again.

I stare at the sharp tools surrounding me, my thoughts taking a route that's not unfamiliar by now. How it would feel, to let one graze me, let one burn me, right where the pain gathers the most, right where my suffering lies. To let it bleed out, until there's no pain left.

To let me suffer the _real_ consequences, the _real_ punishment I deserve.

My thoughts return to me as Grandfather clears his throat, and my eyes widen in fear as I realize what I was thinking of. _Again._

Trembling, I dart out of the shop, Grandfather's cries of protest following me out the door. I ignore him, running as fast as my feet can carry me. I take the longer route, not bothering the shortcut through the farm, as I don't want anyone to see me.

I run and I run, until I reach the place I'm thinking of. I gasp in breathes as I stop, my body trying to get oxygen, still trying to _live, to fight, to survive._

The Goddess Spring. It's not big, but a waterfall empties into it, and it's right next to the mine, where I'll go vent my anger later, while finding ore for work. Win-win, right?

I sit at the edge of the bed, not bothering to take off my boots as I place my feet into the cool water. Taking off my gloves, my fingers skim the clear water. I inhale deeply, imagining my Goddess taking my hand, breathing strength into me through the water.

It's not until the sun has started to dip in the sky that I notice how wet my face is. 

* * *

~~~~ **HARVEST GODDESS** ~~~~

* * *

I sigh as my child continues to cry, his self-hatred and despair weighing my heart. Another tear falls into the water and ripples the surface; the onslaught of emotions exploding into the water stopping my breath.

I squeeze his hand, the one still slightly submerged in the liquid. It's saddens me, at times, that my subjects can't see my physical form. Some can hear, or even touch; but none have been given the ability to see.

Well, with the exception of one family line, however...

I smile, thinking about the young, determined Royale girl. Claire Olivia Royale.

"She's scared, too," I whisper. Gray flinches, and another sob rakes his body. I sigh, wishing I could offer him more than the spiritual energy I was giving him. While my powers are extensive, I can't use their full potential on my subjects just because I feel pity. Special treatment is a high offense, and Father would only use his powers against my people in his fury.

I glance at the girl again, while still seeing Gray, and I release his hand in shock. Immediately he whimpers, so I quickly retake his hand, while I view the two mortals again.

Yes, I was right. If I asked Mother, she'd no doubt see the same thing. I smile a wide smile, one that stretches my face and gives me hope.

_Pink._ Their auras are pink when viewed at the same time.

_Soul mirrors._

"There's hope for you two yet," I whisper, smiling at Gray.

At last, his tears stop falling.


	3. No Coincidence

~~~~ **GRAY** ~~~~ 

* * *

_Life sucks._

I sigh as I pretend to listen to my grandfather as he lectures me on the apparently horrible job I did on the axe he assigned me. Like I have much experience on tools in the first place. Doesn't the word Apprentice mean anything?

I tun him out as I take it back and reheat it, banging it into a better shape. I try to think about getting the shape correct, but my thoughts keep spiraling back into my depressing funk. That's really what it is. A very, very, _very_ bad funk. That's all.

The door chimes, signaling a customer. I ignore it, placing the hot metal into the cooling water, the steam and hissing sounds comforting. I can hear Grandfather talking, and it sounds like a girl responding. I pull the axe up to the grinder, attempting to make it sharper.

"I didn't know it mattered so much... I'm glad we were able to help!" Grandfather says, and I scoff silently. Whose this _we_ he speaks of? He wouldn't even let me look at any other tool order. Which makes me wonder why he allowed this one.

"Just come again if you need anything else, ok?" he says.

"Ok. Thanks very much," she responds.

I glance up, wondering who needed the tool anyways. My mind goes blank for a moment as I recognize her.

Mary. Mary Dayly.

I had a crush on her when I was younger, part of the reason I went to the library so much. We never really spoke, since she was shy and I was antisocial, but it thought she was cute. I look at her long ebony hair, tied back into a long braid, her outfit which reminds me of a Catholic schoolgirl, and her thick framed glasses. I smile slightly. Her eyes are still that pretty gray that reminds me of rainwater.

"Ouch!" I cry out in pain, shock etched on my face. I drop the axe in pain and cradle my hand to my chest, feeling the sting of blood. _Goddess damnit, Gray! You were distracted again!_ I rip my black glove off my injured hand, looking at it closely.  
"What's wrong?" Gramps asks, his voice concerned but annoyed at once. Gritting my teeth, I place my hand at my side and turn towards them, my face blank and uncaring.

"Oh... just a scratch," I lie smoothly, feigning unimportance.

Mary gasps quietly as she looks at my hand. "But you're bleeding!" she cries, face full of concern. Grandfather looks at it and frowns. "It's my own fault for not paying more attention." he says.

I clench my jaw and uninjured fist, hating how he treats me like a little child. "I said I'm fine!" I yell, trying to hold the anger out of my voice.

"Stop that!" she yells back, and I step back in shock. "Just wait one second..." she says quite, her face gentle and her concern showing through. "Just hold your hand still... please!"

For some reason I hold my hand out to her without question, and she reaches into her pocket and pulls out some gauze bandages. I avoid her eyes as she wraps my hand, noticing out of the corner of my eyes her cheeks turning a little red. She pulls her hands back and I drop mine to my side, my glove still clutched in my right hand.

"How's this?" she asks, her voice quiet but proud. I look at it in shock for a moment, my gaze meeting hers. "... Th- Thanks." I mutter quietly. She smiles gently at me. "Don't mention it," she replies, her voice a bit louder this time.

"Alright... I'm going back to the Library now. Come around any time!" she says, smiling wider at me before bidding my grandfather a goodbye. "I'll do that!" Grandfather says happily. "Gray will see you there!" he adds in as well, shooting me a quick look.

"Bye, now!" she says cheerfully as she exits the shop, the bell tinkling after her. I look at the door for a moment before shaking my head, pulling my glove back on and picking up the axe, wiping off the blood with a rag. I can feel Grandfather's eyes on me, but before he can get a word out the door chimes again.

I sharpen the axe for a few moments to fix any damage the fall did to it, before grabbing a clean rag to polish it. I can hear Grandfather talking to another customer again, another female but not Mary. I hear Gramps telling her to go in back by me. Not wanting a repeat, I put the axe down on the counter before I look up at the woman.

I'm extremely glad I put it down already. I might have lost a foot if I hadn't.

Why? It's very simple, really.

Standing in front of me was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.

She's tall, shorter than me, but everyone is really. She looks around my age, perhaps a bit younger, with long, stunning golden blonde hair that reaches her waist in straight locks. She's wearing a red flannel shirt that looks many sizes too big under a pair of overalls, which hang off her loosely, indicating how tiny her body is under it. I gaze at her heart shaped face, her tiny nose, round cheekbones and porcelain skin. Then my heart really stops.

Her eyes. Goddess, her eyes. I need a moment to recognize the emotion spreading through my body as our gazes connect.

They're blue, like mine. But where mine are azure, hers are a bright, deep, brilliant dark shade of sapphire. Partly hidden by her long bangs, I resist the overwhelming urge to reach out and brush them back, so I can see them better. I feel myself fall into them, my soul drowning in their depths. A light flashes through them, faster than a blink, and my eyes widen the same time hers do. I feel my heart sinking in their blue, my soul not even trying to swim its way out, content with drowning in the emotions and feelings coursing through our bodies.

_Our?_ How do I know she's thinking the same things?

Oh Goddess no. I've been starring in her eyes this whole time. Now I look like a creep. Perfect, just perfect.

"Hi," she says softly, her voice making my eyes close involuntarily. It washes over every inch of me, setting my skin on fire. I open them, see she's sending a soft, shy smile my way. I send her one back, not even thinking.

"Hey," I reply, my voice gruff but tender. My thoughts scream at me in confusion, wondering what in the hell am I doing, why am I acting like this. I shove them back in my mind. I don't have the answers right now and I could give a rats ass about them.

Her smile widens, and a soft blush colors her cheeks, making my heart thump harder than before. She holds a petite hand out to me. "Claire. Claire Royale," she says, looking at me expectantly.

Without hesitation I raise my hand to grasp hers gently, sucking in a gasp as to how it feels to touch her. "Gray. Gray Adams," I respond, albeit a little more than breathless. I don't know what happened, but I feel something open deep within me and take my breath away.

There's just something about this girl.

Something is special about Claire. 

* * *

~~~~ **CLAIRE** ~~~~ 

* * *

His eyes continue to captivate and hold me, even as the rush of emotion from holding his hand refuses to lessen. I feel absolutely empowered and overwhelmed, the shock from something opening inside me and rendering me weightless.

With a shaky breath I retract my hand, suppressing a whine from the loss of contact. His gloves hand remains for a second, before quickly retreating to his side. I glance up at him again, wanting to memorize every detail of his face. It's strong and sturdy, sharp with softness to it. He looks around my age, if not a bit older. Every part is attractive, from his jaw to his nose, to the tuffs of auburn hair peeking out from his large UMA hat. His height is impressive, at least 6'. I graze his ensemble for a moment, noting his tan work suit is slightly baggy, but unable to hide the obvious muscle underneath them.

I shake my head and return to eye contact, trying not to feel like flying through the clouds in the sky, free and weightless, my soul soaring and heart rising. Try not to dwell on how his eyes had flashed with light for a moment when they first connected, catching my breath and pouring my heart open.

"I'm, uh, ahem," I clear my throat, snapping us both out of our trance. If he was even in one. I've been oogling him for Goddess knows how long now, he probably thinks I'm creepy.

"Ah, yes," he stutters, clearing his throat as well. "How may I help you?" he inquires, looking suddenly nervous and scarred. I can relate. It seems majority of those strange emotions have subsisted, leaving just enough to make me feel strangely attached to him.

"My axe," I say, pointing to the copper axe gleaming next to him. "I'm here to pick it up."

"Oh, this is yours?" he asks, no doubt surprised the orderer was female. I tried not to let my feminist beliefs show in a frown.

"Yes, it is. I'm the new farmer," I say, a proud smile stretching across my face.

His eyes widen in shock, which he tries to hide by pulling his hat lower down his face, blocking his gorgeous eyes from my view. My heart falters at the loss of connection I feel when their gaze breaks.

"You're the new farmer? Ah, stupid, stupid, of course you are. You said your last name was Royale, and that's Royale Ranch, so of course you're a granddaughter of the old folks or something. I mean, unless you're a niece or in-law or something, sorry, I'm not saying you look too young to run a farm by yourself or anything, and crap, no, I didn't, I, I'll just shut up now," he rambled, cheeks and neck steadily turning darker shades of red.

I giggle escaped my lips, and broke out a bit more as his blush deepened and his lips curved up in a smile.

"Yes, I'm one of their grandchildren. I just moved in yesterday, so I needed some better tools to work, and I can't plant any crops until I clear out the field, so I needed an axe, you know?" I say, blushing ferociously and chuckling nervously as I see I'm rambling now too.

He snickers quietly, and I breath relieved. The older man clears his throat, and we both look up at him in surprise, his eyebrows raised in question and mild amusement. Embarrassed, Gray reaches for the axe and hands it to me, his eyebrows rising as I feel it's weight, not buckling under it like he probably assumed.

"It's so pretty," I say in awe, turning it over in my inspection, feeling the smooth metal. "Did you make this?" I ask, looking up at him, accidentally through my lashes.

He trembles slightly under my gaze, swallowing thickly. "Yes, I did," he replies quickly.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice low and intimate. His eyes soften and his body stills.

"You're welcome," he breathes, sending shivers down my spine.

The older man clears his throat again, and I blush deeply. "Thank you, Gray. Mr. Saibara," I say, turning away from the gorgeous man. "I'll come back when I need more work done, if that's alright."

Saibara smiles at me, and chuckles slightly. "Of course, Ms. Claire. We'd love to have to have you back again," he says, not so subtly sending Gray a look. I smile at him, my gratitude showing through. "How much do I owe you?" I ask, hoping it isn't much. I need to save my money as much as possible.

"Oh no, this is on the house. Think of it as a welcome present," he smiles, my jaw going slack. From the sound of it, Gray's has too.

"Thank you," I whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"Hey now, none of that," he says, cupping me on the shoulder gently. "This is a happy time, okay? You do what you can, and we'll help out the best we can, alright?"

I nod happily, unable to refrain from throwing my arms around the man in a hug. He chuckles and pats my back, stepping back after a few seconds.

"I should get back," I say, wiping at my eyes. "Leave you to your work."

"Of course," he agrees, nodding slightly. "Take care now, you hear?"

"Yes, sir," I reply, turning to leave when a voice stops me, my hand on the door.

"Bye, Claire."

I turn slightly, seeing Gray has his arms wrapped around his torso tightly, his head down and blush flaming. He raises his head slightly, eyes questioning and hopeful.

I send him a reassuring smile. "Bye, Gray," I breath before stepping out, the bell jingling after me.

Only when I've reached my farm house do I allow myself to press against the door and slide down the wall, my mind spinning like mad.


End file.
